Bright Lights
by Calipsancat
Summary: *SPOILERS at the beginning of the first chapter* After the action of the 7th book, Lucius reflects upon his life with a flashback to his final year at Hogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

A/N I was inspired to write this after watching the HP 7 part II. The very beginning has some spoilers. Enjoy and let me know what you think.

Lucius Malfoy stopped mid-stride, almost stumbling, as he made his way down the hill to the massive Hogwarts gate. He felt a pulse inside him like one of his organs had lurched. He swallowed deep and turned around, knowing that something incredible had taken place in the destroyed school.

His son, too, stopped and wrenched his arm away from his Narcissa. "Father," he began, and tugged Lucius' sleeve in way he hadn't done since childhood and he felt another kind pang inside him.

"Voldemort is dead." Lucius was sure of it. He felt the power of the Dark Lord drain out of him and he inexorably jerked up his torn shirt sleeve. His forearm, for the first time in almost two decades, was without the offensive, coiling mark he had come to accept as part of him. At this, Draco too pulled up his sleeve and smiled to see it faded as well to nothing but a whitish tracing scar.

He felt his wife coming up behind him, and noticed that she too looked up to Hogwarts in awe. She stopped short of brushing against his back, withholding still that precious physical contact. "Finally gone. Incredible. That means Potter won." Awe tingled her words. Draco smiled. He noticed as well as Lucius what part he played in this tangled epic.

Draco had been wiser than his father that time in their own home when Potter could have been turned over to the Dark Lord, thus ending all hope of salvation. Lucius would have called Voldemort, called upon him hoping to be saved from the disgrace which had befallen him. But Draco had been wiser; he knew that as long as the Dark Lord lived, there would be disgrace upon all. He had cursed his son for his silence, but now he pulled Draco to his chest and sank to his knees, crushing the boy to him. Draco wept.

Narcissa stood over her men, brow furrowed. At length, Lucius stood, pulling Draco to his feet, and met the troubled eyes of his wife. He mentally traced the careful curve of her cheek, the wisps of rich blonde hair escaped from her loose braid. "We need to go," she said. "We don't know where the others might be."

He knew she meant the Death Eaters. Now that they had been defeated, and had no doubt seen the Malfoy's retreat, they would seek them out for revenge. They all ran the last yards to the gate and, once outside, disapparated.

Their home was searched for months before the newly appointed Ministry was pleased enough with their loyalty to let the Malfoys be. They settled into a semblance of their old routine: Draco left early for work at the Ministry, Narcissa went to visit friends (it would take her so long to rebuild all her social circles), but Lucius rarely left Malfoy Manor.

One afternoon he sat by the huge iron-mullioned windows which looked out on the expansive gardens and turned things over in his mind. He felt useless. He kept the house, that's what he had been doing since the war ended. In the moist summer heat the garden had become a jungle. The morning glories and ivy fought for dominion of the stone porch and the flowering shrubbery drooped into the pathways. Birds and squirrels made themselves at home in the flowerbeds and wasps had built nests in the crannies of the masonry. The only time anyone set foot outside was when Lucius shuffled out in the evenings to feed the peacocks.

Narcissa was being especially late tonight. She was meeting with Joanna Tomkins, an old friend she had once forsaken, whom with she now thought it beneficial to reacquaint herself. Usually these afternoon tea parties lasted only a couple of hours, but it was now nigh on eight o'clock and the spruce tree shadows were lengthening deliciously across the deep green grass.

He suddenly felt a tug in his chest and stood up to follow it. He opened the French door and stepped outside, relishing the moist clean air. A touch of the north was in the breeze and he was reminded of the mountains of Scotland. The exhilaration rose in him as he swept down the stairs and into the high grass which brushed and tugged on his pant legs. There were little crickets and beetles scrabbling away, surprised a the sudden reappearance of humans in their land. He sat in the shade of an elm tree, branches rustling, and occasional leaves wafting through the sky like golden snow.

Somewhere in Chitterne a child called out in jubilation, answered by chorus of raucous cries. He smiled fondly at the sounds which used to flood this very home, that has now become a bleak prison shrouded in cobwebs and creeping memories. He saw his son's smiling face, his own smiling youthful face…

He had just turned 17 years old and all his friends were at attendance for his coming of age party. They ran amuck in the manor house, enjoying each other's company and rejoicing at the rapid approaching completion of their schooling.

"I'll be joining Him when I graduate," Rudolphus Lestrange said proudly, pulling Bellatrix Black tight to his hip.

She batted him away, seemingly playful, but Lucius knew her true feelings for the dark-haired handsome wizard were far from amorous. "Yes, my sweet," she purred into Rudolphus' ear. "You shall help us bring about such changes in the world, such beautiful and necessary changes. You will join us too, won't you, Lucius?" She always said his name in a hiss. He thought she was frightening and he couldn't believe anyone would dare sit beside her, let alone make themselves vulnerable and naked beneath her gaze.

Her eyes were dark almonds and her skin eerily pale. Though she was several years his senior, she still kept a youthfulness in her cheeks and eyes that even he had lost. It didn't make her appear more innocent, however, only more threatening. He knew she had killed people, having been a Death Eater for two years already. What did that change inside a person?

"I'm joining you," a small voice said behind Lucius. It was the little Black boy, Regulus. Though Sirius, 11 this year and attending Hogwarts, was the one primarily invited to the party, his brother had been dogging Lucius' steps since he arrived. "I've been practicing what I can."

"Whelp," Bella sneered. "You're not even old enough to wield a wand. Come back to us when you've hit puberty."

Regulus blushed and, giving Bellatrix a glare, retreated to his brother's side.

"You shouldn't be so scornful. I'm sure your Dark Lord would appreciate his fervor," Lucius mocked.

"Ha," she retorted, "if that boy is frightened by me, he'll never stand a chance. Isn't that right, my love?" Rudolphus fawned on her like a spaniel.

Late that night they descended a hill to set off fireworks. Young Sirius Black held the biggest one he could get his hands on and roughly jammed its stick into the ground, ready to launch it. Rudolphus and Bellatrix had disappeared into the forest and Lucius sat with the rest of the party to watch as the multitude of parents set off a string of gorgeous fireworks. At the time, Lucius thought little of this moment (he was far more concerned with the story Avery was telling about the girl he had coerced into his bed) but in darker times he recalled the laughter of the young men around him, the comfort of his parents nearby, and the bright lights that burst high above them, casting everything with a mysterious sheen before forever disappearing into the night sky.

"A particularly sprightly band of first years, wouldn't you say Lucius?" Horace Slughorn said on one of his many trips to the bathroom he took at every great feast.

"Hm, yes, I'd say." It had been a large group, and Slytherin claimed a good many, but Lucius couldn't help but be surprised at Sirius Black's sorting into Gryffindor. The Blacks and Malfoys had always been in Slytherin house, but there he was, socializing with a Potter, half-blood wizards, and other undesirables. He looked happier than he had ever seen him.

Lucius glanced down the table at the new Slytherins and his eyes rested on a scraggly black haired boy with a pallid face and hooked nose. He was levitating a chicken leg up and down on his plate; finally he flicked his wand and sent it flying toward the Gryffindor table. Lucius watched with merriment as it smacked Potter square in the face. His entourage gawked as Potter wiped the sticky mess from his forehead.

The hook nosed boy smiled, congratulating himself. Lucius made a point of getting to know him better.

More to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucius lingered outside the great hall waiting for her to come. She had not come to his birthday party and now he had failed to see much of her during the feast. Then, she appeared from around the corner with her retinue of lovely witches and admiring wizards.

"Cissa?" He stepped toward her boldly.

"Oh, Lucius." She feigned surprise, though he knew she saw him before he spoke. "How are you, start of term? Happy Birthday."

"Thank you. Might I have a word with you?" He glanced at the on-lookers, "in private."

Narcissa too looked at them and then nodded. "Yes, of course." She took his arm, in the traditional formality and they walked down the corridor.

Though she was only just beginning her 6th year, Narcissa had always had a group of followers about her. Wizards fawned on her, giving her everything she desired, and she thrived on the attention. Lucius too was sought after but he gave in to the temptation of pandering girls quite willingly and once they got what they wanted, they relented. She never gave in to her admirers, which made them pursue her all the more.

"Cissa, I can't talk long, I have to show the first years about, Head Boy duties you know." He puffed up with pride. "I wanted to ask you if you've thought about me this summer. I wrote you-"

"I received the letters, Lucius."

"Don't you think we should be spending more time together?"

"No, I don't. I fancy we'll be having enough time together in the near future." Narcissa glared, her face knit up in a sneer.

"Cissa-"

"Stop calling me that." She drew away from him and towards the window.

Lucius followed, almost touching her shoulder before thinking better of it. "It isn't my fault that this is happening. Our parents…they arranged it."

"But you don't fight it! You are quite pleased with yourself." She whirled on me, pointing a manicured nail at my throat.

"Of course I'm pleased. You're beautiful, you're wonderful, Narcissa." He tried to think of something deep to say, something romantic. "Your eyes are-"

She shoved him lightly, just enough to extinguish his impending poetry. "Stop it, Lucius. I'm sure you aren't a bad man, but since I will have to wed you when I graduate I would rather not spend every moment of my time here with you. You, who seems content to shag 13 year olds."

"She was 14, Narcissa." Lucius said, following his quarry as she began to depart to the dungeons. "And anyway, I would much rather have you."

"Well, you'll just have to wait, won't you." Narcissa smirked. "Oh and I think I see some first-years behind you." With that, she departed, leaving Lucius to the horde of confused 11 year olds.

Lucius showed them the way to their dormitory and explained the series of complex passageways and labyrinthine staircases. "Bubbling Boil," he said to a weeping stone wall, and the corridor to the Slytherin common room was revealed. Lucius loved to hear the gasps of awe and the excited whispered when students first laid eyes on the grand, luxurious room. Some went about immediately exploring the many interesting artifacts (everything from petrified snake skeletons to mounted wolf heads), while others collapsed happily on the leather sofas and by the fire.

The little black haired boy started to retreat for the boys dormitories, but Lucius intercepted him on the staircase. "Nice trick with the chicken leg," he said offhand. "What's your name?"

"Snape." The boy had a nasally voice, low for his age. He tried to squeeze by.

"Come, let's talk for a moment." Lucius guided Snape to an out of the way corner and sat across from him at the study table. The boy squirmed in his seat before morosely resting his chin in a hand. "Are you happy to be in Slytherin?"

He shrugged his narrow shoulders. "I care, I suppose."

"You'll be an asset to our house. I can already tell."

"Really?" He straightened his back and met Lucius' eyes.

"Most definitely. You know, that Potter boy, he and is ilk are disgraces to such wizards as you and I. No doubt you are pureblooded, and purebloods should not be mingling with muggles and mudbloods.

"What are…mudbloods, sir?"

Oh how Lucius did like this boy. "Mudbloods are the children of witches and wizards foolish enough to breed with muggles or muggleborns." The words came quickly to his tongue for he had heard them spoken countless times by his father.

Snape paled a little and frowned. "So muggleborns are bad?"

"Most definitely bad."

The boy nodded resolutely. "Thank you, sir, for telling me this."

"You can call me Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy."

Snape nodded and shuffled up the stairs to his dormitory.

When Lucius arrived in his room, after making sure the first-years were all accounted for, Rudolphus was sitting at the window looking wistful.

"What's your problem, Rudy?" Lucius voice, and the slamming door jarred him from his thoughts.

"Oh, he's thinking about his lady love, of course." Avery sighed dramatically, flopping across his bed with a mock-dreamy expression.

"Shut it!" Rudolphus launched himself at his black hair tormentor and the two toppled off the bed in a fit of laughter.

Lucius chuckled and reclined on his own bed, pulling off his shoes. Amycus looked over from his book. "How're all the little first years doing? Any promising ones for Him?"

Rudolphus and Avery's fight was getting nasty: Avery hit Rudolphus with an especially strong hex that sent him flying across the room and into his desk. Rudolphus whipped a spell at his opponent and he slammed against his bed post, sliding the bed a foot and a half to the right.

"Stop it, you two! Do you want Slughorn to come up here?" Lucius said, looking between them both.

Avery turned in a huff and Rudolphus took the chance to cast an especially nasty balding charm on the back of his head. Everyone did their best to hold in their laughter as the balding boy took out his quill and parchment. "What?" Avery said, looking about. "Have I done something funny?"

"Not at all, we were just laughing at Lestrange, here." Lucius gave his friend a firm pat on the back and Rudolphus nodded seriously.

When Avery had got back to his business, completely unaware that the whole back of his head was hairless, Lucius turned once more to Amycus. "Yes, I've seen a couple of promising first years, most notably a little boy named Snape."

Rudolphus, who now was lounging across the foot of Lucius' bed, propped himself up on an elbow. "Oh yeah, Severus Snape. What a shriveled little kid."

"Do you intend to take him under your wing?" Amycus purred, drawing close to Lucius.

"Yes, I do. I think you could say I've helped a good number of Slytherins find their way." Lucius leaned back on his headboard, thinking not about Snape anymore, but Narcissa.

"What's on your mind?" Amycus said, sitting beside him.

"The same thing that's always on his mind. Narcissa Black." Rudy laughed, "you're lucky, mate. I can tell you, the Black ladies are something special."

"Urgh," Lucius groaned. "Please don't mention your creepy girlfriend around me."

"Anyway," Amycus said, "It's a good thing you're betrothed because you'd certainly never get her any other way."

"Yeah…" Lucius sighed.


End file.
